


Coup d'Arc

by Atrile



Category: RWBY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6977536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atrile/pseuds/Atrile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his parents are attacked and killed for sheltering the Spring Maiden, Jaune Arc is thrown into the Schnee mines to die. A catastrophic accident with lightning Dust transforms and unlocks his Semblance – command over lightning. With this newfound power, Jaune vows to escape his prison, wreak vengeance upon those who have wronged him, and change the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coup d'Arc

  
**Knightfall**

* * *

  
“Get the door for me, would you?”   
  
With herculean effort, I tried to wrench myself from the comforting clutch of slumber. A second passed, then a minute, then–  
  
“Jaune!”  
   
“Sorry, Mom!”  Her voice jerked me awake, cutting through the sleepy fog. Oops. I’d fallen asleep again. Slow but steady, and somewhat slothful, I struggled to my feet. My chair scraped the floor. The spoon in my hand sunk into the bowl of Pumpkin Pete’s Marshmallow Flakes with a plop. As I made my way to the door, my eyelids stayed mostly closed – a last bastion of defiance.  
   
I’d trodden this path to the door countless times. My hand skimmed over the coffee table. Mahogany. Aged, but well-maintained. A gift to my grandfather from a grateful village. It took ten men to bring it into the house, or so I’m told – a legacy far too heavy for me to carry. Two steps forward, and if I turned my head to the right, I would see my father, John Arc, and the perpetual air of disappointment that crossed his face whenever he gazed at me. Every step reminded me of failure. Sometimes, I hated this house. And I really just wanted to go back to sleep. Nevertheless, I continued on. Another three steps, then my toes brushed the edge of the rug. I stumbled briefly, tripping over nothing, taking several steps forward while flailing my arms for balance. Reaching out blindly for the doorknob, I grasped it to steady myself, and pulled the door open.  
   
It was a man. Scratch that, it was a _gentleman_. Everything about him spoke of class – finely tailored clothes, well-polished shoes, and a neatly trimmed, white goatee. He had a grandfatherly look about him, with the corners of his eyes crinkled by time.  
   
“Good day. I am Condor Winchester. What’s your name, son?”  
   
I recognized the name. The Winchesters were another famous Huntsmen family who, like the Arcs, had risen to fame in the Great War. While they had their fair share of haters, everybody agreed that they were (fanatically) loyal to the kingdom of Vale. Even without that knowledge, it was obvious that this man was powerful – advanced age was a rare luxury for Huntsmen.  
   
“Uh… the name’s Jaune. Short, swee–”  
   
Oops. That was for girls. This man was no girl (or at least, I hoped not). Luckily, he did not seem offended. Instead, the elderly man chuckled merrily, stars dancing in his eyes. Then he reached out to pat my head. There was a touch of whisky – ‘liquid courage’, as it was popularly known among Huntsmen – on his breath.  
   
And then a hand rested on my shoulder, _pulling_ me back with a strong, firm grip. “Keep your hands to yourself, Winchester.” It was my father. When I tilted my head back, I saw grim determination – clenched teeth, narrowed eyes. His tone was aggressive and dangerous, like that of a bear protecting its cub. He spoke again, challenging the man in front of me, “What business do you have with me?”

“Come now, John. Is that any way to talk to a guest?” replied the man, with a disarming smile.  
   
“Cut the crap.”  
   
And then the man _changed_. The jovial grandfather disappeared, and in its place, a grizzled veteran emerged. The man loped forward with the gait of a hardened Huntsman, crossing the threshold of our home.  
   
“The girl – the _Spring Maiden_. I know you have her.”  
   
It was here my mother stood. She had always been on the tall side for a woman, but it was not her physical appearance that intimidated people, but rather the sheer force of her will. Relief washed over me. The cavalry had arrived, and everything would be alright with the world. My mom _always_ knew how to make things better.  
   
 “Jaune, go wake your sister.”   
   
For the first time in my life, I heard fear in her voice. And that scared me more than anything else. Whenever I met people – whenever I introduced myself – nobody ever failed to recognize my name. It began with my grandfather. In his time, the kingdoms had been divided by conflict and strife. They fought a massive war that brought humanity to the brink of extinction. We now call it the Great War. And my grandfather? He ended it. Through his actions, he became _the_ hero of his generation. He was _my_ namesake.  
   
Whereas my grandfather made famous the name Jaune, my father made famous the name Arc. John Arc proved to the world that Jaune Arc was not an outlier – not only could his son match his heroics, he could even _surpass_ him. Through his role in the Faunus War, my father forged a dynastic legacy that made the Arcs a household name. When he walked through the streets of central Vale, he left a trail of starry-eyed boys and swooning girls (to my mother’s chagrin). He was the strongest Huntsman of his generation, perhaps even the strongest Huntsman alive (this was widely contested by the other Kingdoms, of course).  
   
And my mother, without doubt, surpassed him. So to hear _fear_ in her voice paralyzed me. I stood, frozen. My mind blank, my heart pounding. And then absolute terror welled up from deep within me, and I _could not move_. My gaze locked with her, and we stood outside time. An eternity passed. We were stiff as statues, still and static.  
   
“Now!”  
   
Her voice jolted me into action, and I _moved_. I leapt in twos and threes, skipping over every other step. Once I’d reached the top of the stairway, it was a straight run to the end of the hallway. First, past the library, the study, and my parents’ room. Then, my sisters’ rooms, four in total. Well, I had more than four sisters. But some had doubled up, while others had long since moved out. And our house was big, but not that _that_ big. Unfortunately, that meant that I had the longest possible distance to cover – the worst case scenario in an emergency, where every second mattered.  
   
And when I reached her door, I twisted the doorknob and pushed my way into her room in one smooth, seamless motion.  
   
Or at least, I should have. Instead, I slammed into the door, knocking the wind out of me. _Damn it_. It was locked. My mother and Indigo had had an argument last night and she’d thrown a tantrum. I didn’t have time for this. I banged on the door as loudly as I could. There was no response. I tried again and again, and yet still there was no answer.  
   
Steeling myself, I took two steps back and then _charged_ at the door, pitting muscle against wood. Very thick, strong wood.  
   
Door, 1. Jaune, 0.  
   
It hurt _a lot_. What the Dust had I been thinking? I was only eight. I didn’t even have my Aura unlocked yet! For a moment, I’d dreamed of being a Huntsman – a badass, Grimm-slaying warrior. But who was I kidding? My parents didn’t think I’d make it. My older sisters didn’t believe in me. And they were probably right. I couldn’t even beat a door.  
   
Maybe I should head downstairs, and ask Mom for the key. And then I heard a large yell, and the sound of shattered glass. It was the voice of my father. That scared me even more. My father _never_ raised his voice in anger. Whenever I’d screw up, he’d sigh in disappointment, and _look_ at me in a way that left me feeling embarrassed and stupid.  
   
I didn’t know what was happening downstairs. I didn’t _want_ to know what was happening downstairs. I didn’t _need_ to know what was happening downstairs.  
   
The mission was simple; wake Indy, and bring her downstairs.  
   
Once again steeling myself, I braced myself for another charge against an immovable object. Two deep breaths, and then I _lunged_ forward with the might of an unstoppable force.  
   
And then the door opened, _before_ I had made contact with it. My little sister, Indigo, had opened it. Problem was, there was no longer an obstacle to halt my forward momentum.  
   
“Big Bro? What’re you doing?”  
   
I stumbled and tripped, arms wheeling to avoid a collision with her. At the very last second, I managed to swerve past her … and smash into her cabinet. _Ouch_.  
   
She yawned sleepily, rubbing her eyes. Her tussled, flaxen hair, baby blue eyes, and cute dimples held all the ingredients for a natural-born charmer. My parents adored her. My sisters – every single one of them – doted on her. Was she spoiled? Definitely. And yet, I wasn’t jealous in the slightest, because she was special. She looked up to me. _Me_. Useless, bumbling Jaune, that nobody believed in. She still called me ‘Big Bro’, and trusted me (never mind that I was her only brother).  
   
One day, I’d probably disappoint her. But that day would _not_ be today. Reaching out, I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room, dragging her as fast as I could.  
   
“Huh? What’s going on?” she stammered, caught off guard and still half-asleep.  
   
There was no time to explain. Heck, I didn’t even know what was going on. I’d leave that up to Mom. And speak of the Grimm, there she was, several steps up the staircase.  
  
“ **Think about it, Arc! This goes beyond you or me. Think of the greater good! We can save so many lives!** ”  
   
Now that we were closer, I could hear the argument better. It didn’t sound good.  
   
“Jaune! You brought Indy!”  
   
There was a hint of surprise in her tone, and that hurt. But there was no time for that. I could sense something bigger was happening.  
   
“What now, Mom?”  
   
**“You damned lapdog. Don’t you see, they’re just using you? She’s just a little girl, and you want to use her for her power?”**  
   
The shouting distracted me, capturing my attention. My mother’s hands reached out and held my face, turning my gaze to meet hers. She’d bent down to bring my eyes at level with hers – even though we were two steps above her, my mother still towered above Indigo and me.  
   
“Listen very carefully, Jaune. I need you to go to the library. At the far end of the room, you’ll find a book called _The Count of Monte Cristo_. If you pull it out, you’ll find it’s actually a Scroll. Enter the numbers 0-6-0-8. The bookcase will swing open, and be-”  
   
Wait. There were _secret rooms_ in my house? I could feel an undercurrent of urgency and panic in her tone.  
   
“Mom … why are you telling me this stuff? I can’t remember it all! It sounds like you want me to go alone!”  
   
Beside me, I could feel the distress radiating from Indigo. It only amplified my own fears.  
   
“ **Enough! I always knew you were a fool. Give me the girl, and no harm will come to you … or your children.”**  
   
Once again, her hands turned my face to hers, and then she told me, “Listen to me, Jaune. You _need_ to focus. _The Count of Monte Cristo_. 0-6-0-8. Don’t forget. Behind the bookca-”  
   
And then a loud roar captured both of our attentions, and we turned to see my father grip the coffee table and _throw_ it at Winchester.  
   
Fury raged in his voice as he shouted, “ **You walk into my home, and you think you can threaten my children?** ”  
   
The mahogany table smashed into the old man, punching a hole through the wall of our house and flinging Winchester outside. It shattered into a million pieces, pulverized by the impact – no longer suitable for firewood, let alone furniture. Our house shook and trembled, as if awed by my father’s strength. And yet, despite being hit with the force of a speeding truck, Winchester got to his feet, seemingly no worse for the wear – with the exception of his finely tailored clothes, which were looking somewhat …raggedy.  
   
My mother frantically turned back to us and cried, “There’s no time! Jaune, Indy, I love you! Don’t look back. Now go!”  
   
“An Arc never goes back on his word.” The response was automatic. It was a phrase that my father had drilled into me. Heroes drew admiration and renown – but they were mortal, and would, like all others, one day turn to Dust. But their legacy, their promises, were forever. _For it is in passing, that we achieve immortality._  
   
I felt a small hand clutch my own tightly, and I squeezed back reassuringly, with confidence that I did not have.  
   
“What’re we gonna do, Big Bro?”  
   
I could see her tremble in fear. Now, it was _my_ turn to lead.  
   
“Just follow me, Indy.”  
   
I had to be strong for her. I was the older one; this was my duty, my responsibility. I wouldn’t let my mom down. I wouldn’t let _her_ down.  
   
And yet, for all my projected confidence, I could not help but feel a sliver of doubt embedded deep within me.  
   
_Jaune, Indy, I love you. Don’t look back._  
   
I looked back, seeking the familiar reassurance only a mother’s love could bring. And then hope swelled within me, a warm surge of pride that drove the niggling fear from my heart. As she made her way down the staircase with flowing gold hair and the faint glow of Aura, she looked like an angel descending from Heaven to wreak divine retribution and smite her foes. There was no way she could lose. This was _my Mom_. She was _invincible_. She was a hero of the greatest caliber, one who had faced down countless Grimm and survived to tell the tale.  
   
But this threat was no Grimm. As my gaze moved beyond her powerful figure, her intended destination was brought into focus.  
   
And then I _despaired_ , for beyond the boundaries of our house stood cold, faceless machines designed for the sole purpose of war, as countless as the Grimm. Scores of androids, a mockery of everything human – marched towards us with all the synchronized precision only a machine, bereft of individuality, could accomplish. Above them, a hovering gunship – an ever-vigilant, all-seeing eye that guaranteed dominion of the air from which there was no escape. And above _that_ , a mighty steel colossus, one designed to pit its strength against the oldest, most powerful Goliath _and win_. Emblazoned on its chest were the words ‘ **PALADIN-290** ’. It towered above all, casting our house in its shadow, where the sun could no longer reach me.  
   
My parents were elite warriors who had spent a lifetime training and fighting Grimm. I had no doubt either of them could defeat Winchester alone, let alone together. But he had brought a _veritable army_ with him, one that could not tire or weaken. Even if their will and discipline was unbreakable, their aura was finite. They would lose.  
   
It struck me that this might be the very last time I might see my parents. My eyes began to water, and this deep, cold, lonely ache grew within my chest that made the world seem darker.  
   
And then Indy – who was one step ahead of me – began to turn around, wondering why her brother was lagging behind. I could not let that happen. I _leapt_ up, slipping my arms around her waist and carried her up the rest of the way. It left me breathing heavily, but as she squealed and giggled in excitement, I knew it’d been worth it.  
   
It took us only seconds to make our way into the library – on the second floor, it was the closest room to the stairs.  
   
The Count of Monty … who again? I looked around wildly, searching for the book. With my head tilted to the side, I inched left and right. And then I bumped right into Indigo, who was pointing to it.  
   
“It’s right here, Big Bro!”  
   
_Damn it_. I was useless, again. I pulled it out, and like Mom said, it was a Scroll. But when I raised a finger to enter the password, I stopped moving. 0-6-0-8? Or was it 0-8-0-6? 0-8-6-0? My head 8e6an to whirl, spinning with 0’s and 6’s and 8’s. If I entered the wr0n6 num8er, w0uld it l0ck me 0ut? Would an alarm s0und? 0h, Dust…  
   
I turned to my sister and reluctantly admitted, “I … sort of forgot the code. Do you remember what Mom said?”  
   
She tilted her head quizzically, as if bewildered by my incompetence. I could feel my image crumbling in her eyes.  
   
“It’s your bee-day, silly! Six, ‘n then eight!”  
   
Huh. So it was. And lo behold, the code worked and the screen flashed with the message ‘ **ACCESS GRANTED** ’.  
   
I cursed under my breath. I was totally useless.  
   
“Mommy likes you the most, you know.” Her voice had grown quieter and solemn. As I turned to face her, I could see a mature look in her eyes. She continued, “I love you lots too, but you’re Mommy’s favorite. So … don’t be sad when Daddy plays with me a lot.”  
   
I looked down to hide my embarrassed smile. She was trying to cheer me up despite being half my age. I was a total failure as an older brother. Still, I appreciated the sentiment. I tussled her hair.  
   
“Mom loved you too, Indy.”  
   
I froze. I’d used the past tense, as if our parents were already gone. I knew there was a good chance they were – although it didn’t seem real. But Indigo didn’t, and this wasn’t something I wanted her to learn yet. But maybe she hadn’t noticed.  
   
“I’m not a dummy, big bro. Mommy told me all about being a Huntress! Sometimes, she has to fight bad people. And maybe the bad people will win, so she has to go away for a really long time. But I’m not gonna cry!”  
   
I walked up and pulled her into my embrace. As the front of my shirt dampened, I gently rubbed her the small of her back. After all, it’s what our mother always did – and it always worked for me.  
   
A hesitant voice interrupted us. “Uh … hi.”  
   
We broke apart, spinning around to look at whoever had spoken. It was a small girl, younger than me, but older than Indigo, with shoulder-length, reddish-black hair and piercing, silver eyes.  
   
“Sorry to interrupt … but who’re you guys?”  
   
She stood right behind where the bookshelf had been before it swung open. Great. _She_ was a girl. I could roll with this. I began to introduce myself, “I’m Jaune. Short, swee–”  
   
Indigo poked me in the side and interrupted, “I’m Indigo. But you can call me Indy! And that’s Jaune! He’s my Big Bro.”  
   
“Oh! You’re Mrs. Arc’s kids. I’m Ruby! Ruby Rose!” she replied, a look of understanding dawning on her.  
   
“Yeah, that’s my Mom,” I confirmed, then asked, “how do you know my Mom?” Wait, was that even the right question to ask? What was she even doing here in our house?  
   
“Er… something happened, so some bad people are looking for me. So, I’m hiding here. Your Mom and Dad are helping me. Or something like that … oh, and your Mom talked about you guys! So we’re practically friends … kind of … not really … not friends at all. Sorry. Super awkward… Anyway, why are you guys here?”  
   
For Dust’s sake. I’d been so caught up with everything that had happened that I’d completely forgotten. We _had to move_. There was no time.  
   
“The people looking for you … I think they’re here. We need to go.”  
   
Ruby’s nose scrunched up, frustration evident in her tone, as she replied, “Phooey. I only got here last week. Well, I guess we gotta go.” She walked over to the end of the room, grabbing a small rucksack along the way, then pulled open a trapdoor and descended into its depths. Her head popped back up a few seconds later, and she asked, “What’re you guys waiting for? C’mon!”  
   
It was a two-story drop. Our house was two-stories high, and we didn’t have a basement. Now I knew why. Luckily, there was a ladder to climb down. And once we’d touched down and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I noticed that the walls were solid bedrock, impossible for the Grimm to break through – this must have been a serious effort to dig. This couldn’t have been done recently either, as I would have noticed the sounds and vibrations of the construction required to pull this off.  
   
The darkness was unending. I kept one hand on the wall to keep my bearings. Without the sounds of Indigo and Ruby’s steps, I may as well be walking alone. The silence and darkness were unbearably lonely, and I spoke up to reassure myself of their presence.  
   
“Hey, Ruby. Those people … why were they looking for you?”  
   
The steps stopped, and I could hear her voice answer, “Huh? I … don’t know. Dad says that I’ve got a new power. But … I just wanna go home. I miss Yang. And Zwei. She’s my dog. Uh, I mean she’s my sister. And he’s my dog.”  
   
I didn’t know what to say to that. For the first time, I couldn’t help but be thankful for the darkness, because without it, I would be forced to see the expression on her face. I could hear loneliness and anguish in her tone, and that hurt. But to _see_ it on her face would tear into my soul.  
   
And then we fell silent.  
   
As we continued to walk for what seemed like an eternity – it could have been ten minutes or ten hours, for all I knew – I noticed one set of steps begin to fade. Indigo had been unusually silent, and it dawned on me that she was struggling, lagging behind and unable to keep up with the pace we had been setting. She was only four years old, and all the excitement and physical exertion had begun to take its toll.  
   
“Ruby, hold on.”  
   
I heard her stop, then turned and asked, “Hey, Indy. Do you want a piggyback ride?”  
   
Her reluctant silence told me everything. Although my family spoiled her immensely, or maybe _because_ we did, she had a strong, independent streak. She loved taking advantage of me (and I didn’t mind – it was nice being relied on, for a change), but when I’d proactively offer to help with something, she’d always refuse.  
   
I bent down for her to climb on and, as she wrapped her arms around my neck, I could hear a whispered ‘thanks’ in my ear.  
   
Shortly after, Indigo spoke up again.  
   
“Hey, Big Bro. Last night, I said some bad words to Mommy. Do you think … she hates me now?”  
   
I sighed. While she was very much a daddy’s girl, sometimes Indigo and Mom had disagreements. They’d always make up the next day, but there was usually a lot of crying and hugging involved. Trying to reassure her, I asked, “Indy … when you say mean things to me, do you think I hate you?”  
   
“But you don’t count. You do everything I want.” Ouch. She didn’t sugarcoat it – I was totally her lackey. Still, it was true that we didn’t fight. At least for now, she still looked up to (or looked down on) me.  
   
“Mom always forgives you, sis. Don’t worry.”  
   
Even though it was true, the words sounded empty and hollow, like empty platitudes. But it was the best I could do – a poor substitute for the loving embrace of a mother’s warmth.  
   
She sniffled, then asked, “But … what if we never see Mommy again?”  
   
That struck home deeper than I’d care to admit.  
   
“Indy … Mom could _never_ hate you. She already forgave you, ‘cause she’s our Mom. So, even if we never see her again … she won’t … she won’t …”  
   
I didn’t know what else to say. What could I say? Right in front of me, Ruby rummaged through her rucksack and pulled something out, then said, “Uh … do you guys want cookies? Cookies always make things better.”  
   
The smell of Mom’s baked cookies – the smell of _home_ wafted through the tunnel, filling my nose. My chest throbbed painfully, my throat hurt, and my eyes and nose began to water. Sorrow, grief, loneliness rose to the surface. And for the first time today, anger _surged_ through me. Before I knew it, I’d lashed out at Ruby.  
   
“Cookies? You think _cookies_ can make this better? My parents might be dead, and it’s _your_ fault! _YOU_ BROUGHT THEM HERE. WHY?”  
   
Damn it. I hadn’t meant to yell at her … it had just exploded out. My hands were shaking, my body was trembling. I was losing control. I needed to apologize, to make things right. I needed to get my head in the game and focus on the mission.  
   
And then Ruby reached out and hugged me. I began to relax, reminded of all the times Mom had given me hugs. She said, “A hug and a cookie … it’s what my Mom always gives me when I’m feeling down.”  
   
Indigo got down and joined in the group hug.  
   
“Jaune … don’t cry.”  
   
She almost never used my name – it was always ‘Big Bro’. The fact that she did showed that she was trying to be mature and serious. This was the second time she had tried to console me today, and I was moved. But what shocked me even more was Ruby’s actions. She was on the run, forced to constantly look over her shoulder and flee her pursuers. And here I was, a complete stranger who had yelled at her, and she chose to hug me. She was incredibly kind, compassionate, and empathetic. I wiped the tears that had rolled down my cheeks on my sleeve and nodded.  
   
“Your big brother isn’t going to cry.” A total lie. My sleeve was damp. “Ruby … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”  
   
“No … Jaune, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. If I wasn’t here …”  
   
I shook my head, disagreeing, “No. It’s my parents’ job to protect people. I shouldn’t have blamed you. Sorry.”  
   
I was the oldest here. The mission wasn’t over. I needed to get these two to safety. There would be time to grieve later. After breaking up the group hug, we continued on. The atmosphere was less awkward and somehow, I felt that we had bonded a little.  
   
And then Ruby spoke up, “Hey, Jaune. Y’know, I lost my Mom too. She’s also a Huntress. A few weeks ago, she went on a mission … and never came back. We never _found_ her, but Dad says that I got her power, so she must be gone. Anyway, I miss her a lot. So I know how you guys feel.”  
   
Gee, way to make me feel guilty again. Still, I appreciated that she’d share that with me. We fell into a comfortable silence and soon after, Indigo had fallen asleep, her head nestled on my shoulder. Luckily, she wasn’t that heavy. Still, I was getting pretty tired.  
   
Soon, we began to feel a slight breeze on our face, then the faint glimmer of light. We were almost there. When we finally broke out of the darkness and emerged into the sunlight, I nearly wept from joy. And then I sunk to my knees, all the adrenalin leaving my system, and passed out.

* * *

Qrow stared at the cave formations. It was an impenetrable maze that would drive anybody who wandered in insane – if they didn’t die from thirst first. This was the place ... right? Surely Ozpin didn't expect him to go into the caves to look for the Arc kids. They'd be fine ... Ruby had a good head on her shoulders. He'd just sit here and wait.  
   
He took another sip of whisky, then promptly spat it out as several kids popped out of one of the cave entrances. The first was a boy with blond hair and blue eyes, practically a mirror image of his father. Definitely an Arc. On his back was another Arc kid; a much younger girl with tussled, shoulder-length hairs. She was asleep.  
   
Here was an _opportunity_.  
   
“Hey, kiddo. Picking up girls already? Heh, never mind.”  
   
And then the boy sunk to his knees and collapsed, face-planting into the ground. Damn it, his joke wasn’t _that_ bad, was it?  
   
“Drunkle Qrow!”  
   
A cannonball shot at him – a whirling ball of red, black, and white.  
   
_Hey Summer, what’s black, white and read all over?_  
   
_Uh … me?_  
   
_Nope, a newspaper. A-ha-ha-ha!_  
  
_Qrow…_  
   
He shook his head, clearing old memories, and held out his arms to catch Ruby.  
   
“Did you miss me? What about Yang? And Zwei? And Dad? Oh, and Mrs. Arc was _super_ nice! She baked me cookies and read me stories! Did you know they have _seven_ girls? AndImetJauneandIndyohhername’sIndigoandthenwe–”  
   
Qrow smirked. Ruby had brought up their _dog_ before Taiyang – he was so going to rub it in his face the next time they met up.  
   
“Hold up, kiddo. One thing at a time.”  
   
Ruby flushed in embarrassment, mumbling, “Right. Sorry, I was just super excited. Where’re we going now?”  
   
He ruffled her hair – _just like he’d always do to Summer_ – and answered, “We’re going to Beacon.”  
   
She gasped, overwhelmed by excitement. “Oh my gosh! Beacon? You mean where you and Mom and Dad went to school?”  
   
He expected her to continue fangirling, as she always did ever since Summer had filled her head with fairy tales and embellished stories of their missions. But she defied his expectations, glancing at the two children behind her, and asked, “Uncle … what’s gonna happen to Jaune and Indy?”  
   
Qrow sighed. Sometimes, Ruby cared about people too much. _Just like Summer_. He made his way over to the two, bending down to meet the younger Arc child at eye-level.  
   
“Hey kiddo. I’m Qrow. You’re safe now.”  
   
She looked up at him with wide eyes, no doubt about to heap lavish praise upon him as her savior and hero.  
   
“You’re stinky.”  
   
He clutched his heart, staggering back. Ruby giggled, agreeing, “Yep! You’re stinky, Uncle Qrow.”  
   
Well, they weren’t wrong. Ozpin had messaged him right after his mission had ended, and he hadn’t had time to go take a shower – he’d been out in the field for several days now. Still, a ‘thank you’ would be nice. He’d always taken pride in his roguish charm. Lately, he’d been having a lot of fun riling up that Schnee girl who’d just graduated from Atlas Academy whenever James had a job for him.  
   
An impish expression took over his face and he ran over to Jaune, sweeping him up in a bridal carry. Ruby stared at him dumbfounded, then protested, “Uncle Qrow, how come you never carry me and Yang like that?”  
   
It was true – he always carried them like potato sacks, because why the hell not? But this time was different.  
   
“Can you imagine how embarrassed he’s gonna be when he wakes up?”  
   
Ruby and Indigo began to snicker.

* * *

“Headmaster, I’ve received a message from Qrow. He will be here soon. Still … I simply can’t believe the Lighthouse was compromised that easily.”  
   
Ozpin did not move. With steepled hands and closed eyes, he spoke, “The loss of Polaris and Moonlight … is a heavy blow to the cause. But their sacrifice will not be in vain.”  
   
Glynda marched up to him, slamming a hand down on his desk. “The cause? Is that all you care about? The cause?”  
   
An undercurrent of steel flashed through his eyes as he replied, “I care about _every single student_ who comes through this Academy, Glynda. But I have to think about the bigger picture. There is so much at stake here, as you are well aware.”  
   
Sufficiently chastised, she apologized, “You’re right, Ozpin. I … just wish I could have done something.”  
   
And then the door opened, and an unkempt, disheveled man staggered in drunkenly, with a flask in one hand and three children in tow. Glynda frowned.  
   
“As messy as usual, Qrow. It’s a wonder you even managed to get here.”  
   
He waggled his eyebrows, leering at her, and she barely resisted the temptation to whip him to death with her riding crop.  
   
“Qrow,” called out Ozpin. “You did well. I would think that the young lady here would like to spend some time with family, while I have a talk with Jaune.”  
   
Recognizing the dismissal, he bowed grandiosely and stepped back out of the room – taking the cue, Ruby followed him out, hurriedly saying her goodbyes to Jaune and Indigo.  
  
“Glynda, would you take young Indigo to a room? I would imagine she’s had a long day.”  
   
His assistant nodded, leaving Jaune and Ozpin alone in the room.  
   
“Jaune Arc … do you know who I am?”  
   
“You’re the headmaster at Beacon.”  
   
Good. The boy was still coherent. He was … coping with the situation. He could be of use. How much use, though, was still in the air.  
   
“Do you understand what happened tonight, Jaune?”  
   
Turmoil roiled through his expression; uncertainty, grief, and fear, rising and falling. And then determination solidified, and he replied curtly.  
   
“Yes.”  
   
“Then tell me.”  
   
Hesitantly, Jaune explained, “My parents … they were protecting Ruby. Mr. Winchester wanted her … because she has powers. He wanted her enough to attack my parents.”  
   
“Your parents were attacked by Faunus extremi–”  
   
Jaune’s head snapped up, furious, blazing eyes locking with Ozpin’s.  
   
“What? No! My parents were atta–”  
   
“Jaune. Tell me, who is Condor Winchester?”  
   
Jaune snarled angrily, “He’s _evil_. He attacked my parents!”  
   
Ozpin hesitated, wondering if the situation could be salvaged. He took a deep breath, analyzing possible scenarios and alternatives. No, this was the only path. This was the best possible outcome.  
   
“Listen to me, Jaune. Listen _carefully_.” His hushed, grave tone captured Jaune’s attention. “Who does Winchester work for?”  
   
Jaune frowned, not seeing the relevance of the question. Still, he humored the headmaster. How could he not, after his parents had instilled a fundamental sense of respect for Huntsmen into him? And this was the man who had taught every single Huntsmen in Vale for decades.  
   
“Uh … the Winchesters work for … Vale?”  
   
Ozpin tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk. “No, not _all_ of Vale.” He could see the cogs whirl in Jaune’s mind.  
   
“The Vale … Council?”  
   
And then horror flashed across Jaune’s face. Trembling, he asked, “B-but why would the _Council_ attack my parents?”  
   
Something died within Ozpin then. Jaune was so _young_. He was still a child. He wasn’t ready for this kind of world. No … there was no other choice. There was simply too much at stake.  
   
“Does it matter _why_? Now you know _who_ , and that is enough to know what to do.”  
   
Jaune shook his head. “I don’t get it. What … should I do?”  
   
“There will be a hearing,” continued Ozpin, resting a hand on his shoulder, “held by the Council. They will call upon you to testify. And when you do so … you _must not accuse them_.”  
   
Jaune froze, deep blue eyes staring up at Ozpin, as if pleading for help.  
   
“When the Council claims that your parents were attacked by Faunus, and you say that they were not, who will people believe? You … or the Council?”  
   
He leaned forward, driving the point home.  
   
“What will happen to you then? What will happen to _Indigo_?”  
   
Jaune sunk into the chair, holding his head in his hands.  
   
There was a knock at the door, and Ozpin called out, “Come in.” A man stepped in; blond hair – a shade darker than Jaune’s, tanned skin, and dressed in a formal uniform. Stitched on his left sleeve were the words ‘ **Vale PD** ’.  
   
“Jaune, this is Police Commissioner Xiao Long. He’ll take you to the hearing. You can trust him.”  
   
Taiyang beamed like the sun, brightening the room with his jovial attitude. “Don’t worry, kid. I heard you looked after Ruby for me. I’ll take care of you and your sis from here.”  
   
He steered Jaune out, and as the two blondes left, Glynda re-entered.  
   
“Ozpin … that was a cruel thing you did.”  
   
He did not reply, instead reaching out for the mug of coffee on his desk. And then she realized that his hand was shaking, little droplets of coffee spilling on scattered paperwork.  
   
And then he turned on her, asking, “And what would you have me do, Glynda? I am powerless to help the boy. Did you see him? Blond hair, bright blue eyes – the mirror of his father. Too inconspicuous to disappear in the outlands. They would find him in no time. Or would you have me try to shelter him? To endanger _everything_ we’ve accomplished?”  
   
She regretted those words, regretted hurting the man she had come to trust and admire – even if he was terribly irresponsible. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he cut her off.  
   
“No, Glynda. You’re not wrong. But we cannot match the Council head-on. The ultra-conservatives are ancient relics; time is on our side. We need only wait; let them rattle their sabers and dream of their glory days. With time, they will die off, and the Council will liberalize.”  
   
She sighed, acknowledging his point. “Council aside, when the results of the hearing come out … this will radicalize the Faunus …”  
   
“Yes, it will reverse some of the gains we’ve made. But tensions _will_ settle, eventually. We cannot afford to alienate our allies.”  
   
Glynda nodded. “One step back, two steps forward.”  


* * *

   
My head throbbed painfully. I couldn’t think. Headmaster Ozpin said that the Valean Council was responsible for everything that had happened today. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t understand what was going on. It felt like everything I knew about the world had been upturned. Who could I trust now? What would happen to me and Indigo? Why had we been attacked?  
   
A lone voice broke through the fog.  
   
“Hey, you okay?”  
   
A firm grip on my shoulder. I turned to see his figure –blonde hair, toned muscles, and the powerful, confident stance of a veteran Huntsmen – _just like my father._ But the radiant smile shattered the illusion.  
   
“Mr. Xiao Long …”  
   
I was speechless. I wanted to cry out at how unfair everything was. I wanted to go back home and read comics and eat Mom’s cookies. I’d give anything for things to go back the way they were.  
   
“Look, I know you’re probably feeling a little lost, kid. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m going to claim custody of you and your sister. So don’t worry about what comes after. Just do _what needs to be done_.”  
   
I could tell Taiyang wanted to protect me – the way a Huntsman would. But this was no Grimm, and I needed to know the truth. I couldn’t shut my eyes and bury my head in the sand. I couldn’t let my parents’ attackers get away scot-free.  
   
“I … I want to know. I _need_ to know. Why?”  
   
The Huntsman shook his head bitterly. “You don’t need to worry about this, kid. You’re too young. Leave this to the adults. You know, I have a girl about your age, she’s a blonde too. You’ll fit right in.”  
   
“No!” I shouted, “You can’t hide things from me! Tell me the truth!”  
   
For the first time, the smile disappeared. It was unsettling. For the brief time I’d known him, he’d always seemed so cheerful and optimistic. Now, the thinned lips and clenched jaw looked out of place.  
   
“Jaune … do you know about the Great War?”  
   
I nodded. It was part of my legacy.  
   
“Of course you do,” he continued, “You’re an Arc. Your grandfather became a hero. Your family fought on the right side. But have you ever heard the saying … ‘winners write history’?”  
   
It all made sense now. In the Great War, Condor Winchester had fought on the wrong side. After the end of the war, he’d been reviled as a villain and a mass murderer. Even today, the name ‘Winchester’ was controversial. And to see my grandfather go down in the history books a hero, and the Arc family rise in fame and prestige, must have been humiliating for him. Anybody would have been jealous.  
   
“I think … I get it. Mr. Winchester wanted revenge. He doesn’t like us, because we got what he couldn’t. But Professor Ozpin mentioned the Council … do they hate my family too?”  
   
Once again, the perpetual smile had returned. “Dust, no! Most people actually like your family, Jaune. You have to understand, though, that the Council has a lot of people who … can’t let go of the past.”  
   
Nope. I wasn’t following. If these old councilmen didn’t want revenge, what _did_ they want?  
   
Seeing my look of confusion, Taiyang began to explain, “Look, Jaune. What’s the biggest company in Remnant?”  
   
Well, that was easy. The Schnee Dust Company.  
   
“That’s right. They own all the CCTs. They mine all the dust. They bottle all your drinks and package your toothpaste. They make all the cars and airships. They own everything. But it wasn’t always like this. Those councilmen … they remember a time when our economy wasn’t controlled by the Schnees. A time when Vale had its own army, and not just a militia.”  
   
While I knew enough Remnant history to understand what he was saying, I just didn’t see the relevance. If they didn’t hate my family, why would they attack us?  
   
“We’re out of time,” muttered Taiyang, cutting to the point, “Basically, Ruby has the power of a Maiden – and each Maiden is worth an entire army. Some councilmen see her as a way to help them return to how things were before the Great War. And that’s why they desperately want Ruby, enough to attack your parents.”  
   
His explanation made sense, even though I didn’t want to believe it. But there was one thing I didn’t understand.  
   
“If the Council want Ruby’s powers to get rid of the Schnees, then why did Mr. Winchester have so many robots from Atlas?”  
   
The grip on my shoulder escalated, nearly crushing my shoulder. A panicked look seized his face, and words rushed out of him.  
   
“Robots? Like the Atlesian army? Not the Valean militia?”  
   
His face whitened, and he opened his mouth to say something, but a woman stepped into the room and interrupted us.  
   
“Police Commissioner Xiao Long? His Majesty and the Valean Council is ready to receive Mr. Arc.”  
   
Taiyang leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Look, Jaune. Just stick with the plan. Don’t accuse the council, and don’t mention Ruby.”  
   
I nodded and walked inside.  
   
It was a _massive_ room. Red carpet, gold trim. A chandelier made of _Dust_ hung as the centerpiece – the lights on it must have been electronic, because any candles would have caused it to combust or explode. Opulence and luxury were not in short supply here. This was not a gathering of Huntsmen. This was a meeting of magnates and tycoons – the most powerful men in Vale, where a single decision could cause tens of thousands of families to lose their jobs. I noticed that most sat in groups – there were many empty seats. There were, generally speaking, roughly two groups – one to the left, and one to the right, with a few sitting here and there in between.  
   
There was one person though, who stood out of place. A boy as young as me, absent of the greed and power all the men oozed. But the crown that stood on his head made clear the reason for his presence.  
   
And then the oldest of them stood. Older than Winchester, older than my grandfather. He was so old that I could not place his age. For all I knew, he could be 80 or 100 or 120 years old. He was simply _old_.  
   
“The Chair recognizes Jaune Arc, here to give testimony regarding the attack on the Arcs.”  
   
I broke into a cold sweat. My legs swayed. My voice trembled. I couldn’t help but shiver.  
   
“I … I’m … I …”  
   
I was speechless. I could barely think. My mind was completely blank, and for some reason, I couldn’t remember anything that Ozpin and Mr. Xiao Long had drilled into me.  
   
From the right side, a man stood.  
   
“Jaune Arc … is it true that you were attacked by _Faunus_?”  
   
The old man from earlier who had spoken first turned, angrily shouting, ‘Order! You do not have the Floor! It is not y–”  
   
He was ignored, and the man continued, as if he had never been interrupted.  
   
“Well? Were your attackers Faunus?”  
   
Right. Ozpin and Mr. Xiao Long had mentioned this. Some people on the Council were going to blame Faunus extremists. I had to go along with it.  
   
“Y-yes, Sir. Yes.”  
   
This time, I barely stuttered. I was beginning to regain my composure. I could do this.  
   
“Then these Faunus … did they have black cat ears? Yellow eyes?”  
   
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.  
   
“Yes,” I repeated, noting that the old man had given up trying to stop the man from questioning me.  
   
And then the man’s eyes flashed victoriously, and the doors opened. When I turned to look, rage surged through my veins. There was Winchester. I wanted to lunge at him, to hit him and _hurt_ him the way he had hurt me. I wanted to shout to the entire room how _this man_ was the one responsible. My fists clenched furiously, sight tinting red, and for the first time in my life, I understood how it felt to truly _hate_ someone.  
   
“Are these Faunus the ones you saw?”  
   
The question snapped me out of my rage. When I looked at Winchester, I saw the glassy-eyed, wild desperation in his eyes. With him were two Faunus – a man and a woman, younger than my parents, maybe in their late twenties. The woman screamed and sobbed, her black Faunus ears folded back, futility trying to pull away from Winchester’s iron grip. The man, by contrast, was completely still. In his eyes I could see that he had already realized that all of this was a farce – he was resolved to die, but would do so with his back straight and chin up.  
   
My heart clenched tightly. I could not breathe. All the composure I had built up, gone in a flash. Eyes watering at the injustice of the situation, I trembled with barely suppressed rage, surpassed only by my sense of growing horror.  
   
My resolve wavered as I heard the woman plead and beg for the sake of her child. But then I thought of Indigo, and I made my decision.  
  
_I’m sorry. I, too, have someone to protect_.  
  
And when I turned back to the men looking down at me, I realized that these men were _far worse_ than Winchester. They had built their fortunes on the backs of others. How many had they sacrificed in their pursuit of power, wealth, and influence? How many had slaved and toiled to enrich them? These were rats who had thrown others off the boat, simply so they could have more space, and then clinked their wine glasses in celebration.  
Barely suppressing the righteous fury that surged through me, I looked up at the man who had questioned me.   
  
“Yes.”  
  
As the damning words slipped from my mouth, there was no hesitation. My voice did not tremble. My hands did not shake. My resolve was steel, for I had found renewed purpose. I had stained my hands with blood, but their sacrifices would not be in vain. I would tear down the empires these men had built. They had pulled me into their games, but I would dethrone them all. I would _change the world_.  
As the Faunus couple were dragged out, the temperature plummeted and the atmosphere turned frigid, as if all the warmth had been sucked out of the room.  
  
And then a man and a young girl with snow-white hair and arctic-blue eyes strode in.


End file.
